#no one else puts the pressure on it that i do (cept my one friend that knows but he doesnt usually mention it)

[waterfallofspace]

Anyone else not able to say 'bless you', either because it feels too personal, embarrassing, slightly erotic or a mixture of all of the above-

Buuuuuut also whenever an event interrupts the conversation, you feel so much more awkward not saying anything/commenting on it at all, and so you wish you could just... say that phrase, or have some other thing that makes sense to say to just- shrug it off???

[trueromantic1]

The Myth of Me and You Is Fiction Turned To Truth

Summary: After the events of both seasons (SVU 22x16 and OC 1x08), Olivia and Elliot find themselves in the unique position of knowing where there love story will end up, but having no idea what exactly will transpire to get them there. One thing they do know? Their love can only grow deeper, and that they’re bound to enjoy the journey.

Author’s Note: For the purposes of this story, SVU 22x16 ended on May 28 (canon) and OC 1x08 ended on June 4 (not canon). This picks up on June 7.

Title comes from Great Ones by Maren Morris. It’s definitely an EO song.

Rating: M, possibly Explicit eventually

ff.net: here

AO3: here

Her phone beeped, drawing her distracted gaze away from the paperwork in front of her. Seeing the text message notification lighting up the screen, Olivia took off her glasses and put her pen down, picked up the phone, and leaned back in her chair with a sigh as she unlocked it.

Can I buy you dinner? There’s news.

She frowned, trying to tell his mood from those few words. Realizing it would be impossible, she glanced out at the nearly empty squad room before hitting the call button instead.

“You didn’t have to call. I know you’re at work still Liv.” Judging by the voices she could hear in the background, he was still at work as well. She knew they’d been dealing with the lawyers and IAB ever since Morales turned out to be a mole and decided suicide by cop was the best way out.

“It’s fine El. I needed a break from the paperwork for a minute anyway. The one thing they never prepare you for is just how much paperwork you do when you’re in charge of a squad. So, what’s going on?”

He chuckled, and she could hear the creak as he leaned back in his own chair. “That’s what dinner is supposed to be for Liv. If I tell you now, what would be the point of dinner?”

She smiled, recognizing his tone as the slightly flirty one she’d been hearing more of ever since what was supposed to be Fin’s wedding. Neither one of them was ready to jump into a relationship, but they’d come to a silent understanding that night by the water. “I don’t know Elliot. We’ve never needed a reason for dinner before. Why don’t you just tell me the news now, and then you can come over to my place later and we’ll get Chinese. Noah’s taking advantage of it being summer vacation and is at a sleepover so his friend’s mom can take them to an early show of a ballet she worked on costumes for. Apparently, they allow friends and family to come for free on Tuesdays, but it’s normally during the school day.”

“Oh, I bet he’s excited. Sleepover during the week and going to a professional ballet performance?”

“Yes, he’s thrilled. It’s all he talked about all weekend. Now quit stalling Elliot. What’s going on?”

“I never could get one by you, could I? Okay. Well, Angela Wheatley woke up earlier today, and is expected to make a full recovery. Bell and Washburn went over to the hospital once they cleared her for visitors. And we’re finally supposed to be done dealing with IAB and the lawyers over this. We still have to wait for IAB’s official report, but I got the feeling none of us were going to get in trouble for what happened. They told Bell they’d already spoken to you as well, so you should be done with them for now too. And then on a more personal note, you remember I told you I was looking at apartments in the city? At Fin’s not-wedding and then that I had some more appointments the rest of that weekend? Well, I found one, and I went down and signed the lease today during lunch.”

“El, I’m glad things are working out with the case, and that IAB will be out of all of our hair. It’s still bothering me what exactly Richard Wheatley was planning with that fake text sending me to the hospital. But I guess we won’t know unless he decided to tell us. But way to bury the lead! El, that’s great! I can’t believe you found a place in just a week. You didn’t just settle for something did you? You need a good place for you and Eli to make a home.” She knew he’d been anxious about getting out of the one bedroom short-term he’d rented after Kathy’s death, so she hoped he’d taken his time to find something he really liked.

“It’s nice, knowing you worry about us. And thanks. Don’t worry, it’s actually a great place. Rent’s a little higher than I’d planned, but I can make it work. It’s about halfway between here and the one six actually. About two blocks from the school Eli will be going to, assuming they’re back to in person by then. And it’s a three bedroom two and a half bath, which I figure will come in handy if any of the kids decide to visit and don’t want to drive home ever. And it’s near a park, in case anyone else wanted to visit. I take possession this Sunday, and Bell gave me Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday off so I can get some stuff moved in. I’ve got some furniture scheduled for delivery on Monday.” The calm she’d been hearing more and more in the last few weeks shone through, which she knew was at least in part because he’d finally started talking to someone. But she thought a lot of it had to do with settling back into the city, since he’d confided that as much as they’d been happy in Italy, the energy had just never been exactly right to him.

“I’ll always worry El, you know that. I’m glad though. Now you and Eli have all summer to get settled in. Hopefully he’ll meet some of his future classmates, so he won’t fell so new when school starts back up. And you know, it just so happens, I might know someone who could come help you get things set up. You know, if you were interested.” She made sure to infuse her voice with a hint of suggestion, upping the playful flirting they’d been indulging in just a bit. She mentally patted herself on the back when she heard the hitch in his breath followed him clearing his throat. His next words, voice lowered and with a hint of a growl, proved he hadn’t lost a step either, as she felt herself flush with arousal and a corresponding dampness between her thighs that she was fast becoming reacquainted with that caused her to cross her legs and shift in her seat to try to alleviate the pressure.

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to turn down someone willing to work up a sweat with me. Why don’t we discuss it more over dinner? I should be able to be to your place by 7, if that works for you.”

She checked the time, then the stack of papers she needed to finish, then glanced into the squad room. Seeing her people were now at their desks, folders open in front of them, she quickly calculated it’d be at least another hour before she could even think of leaving, especially if she planned to take three days off next week. “Make it 8?”

“8 it is. Want me to pick up our usual on my way over, or are we having it delivered?”

“Hmm, better pick it up. You know how busy they get. If you call it in when you leave, it’ll probably be just about ready by the time you get there.”

“Sound good. I’ll let you go so you can finish up all that paperwork. See you in a few hours Liv.”

“Alright. Bye El.” Hanging up, she pressed the phone against her chest a moment, savoring the warm feeling she always seemed to get when she talked to Elliot these days, before standing up and walking out into the squad room.

“Anything you guys haven’t finished by 7, you can leave until tomorrow. Short of a new case, you can all clock out then, since we’re currently between cases.” She turned to head back to her office and the stack of paperwork, but turned back around when Amanda spoke.

“Are you clocking out then too Cap? I know Noah’s at that sleepover. You shouldn’t stay late finishing paperwork anymore if we aren’t.” Her detective’s voice was concerned, and she realized just how much her stress and worry over the last three months must have shown, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“Yes, he’s already called me to say goodnight, because apparently they will be too busy the rest of the night with sleepover stuff to worry about me. But don’t worry, I’m clocking out then too. Even if that pile of paperwork is only going to grow when you all turn in your paperwork.” She turned again, hoping to make it into her office before anyone thought too hard about her clocking out when she didn’t have to, but Fin’s teasing voice told her she was too late.

“You? Clock out early when you don’t have Noah waiting at home? What’s up? You got yourself a hot date or something?”

She was a Captain. Had been a police officer for over twenty years. She’d had to keep her cool when being questioned on the stand by lawyers all the time. But she knew, she knew, that she couldn’t hide the hitch in her step or the slight wince as he asked his question. Even as she turned back around, her face carefully blank, she knew he’d caught her. “Date? No, I don’t have a date. Who would I even have a date with?” Internally, she winced again as she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Elliot Stabler tell her that asking that many questions just made her sound defensive, and therefore all the more suspicious. Registering the varying degrees of shock on the three’s faces, she smirked to herself for surprising them at least.

“Oh, I don’t know. A certain Detective, maybe? I saw you two together at the ceremony, off in your own little world by the water. Almost like old times, ‘cept the flirting was a little too obvious.”

Trying to control the embarrassed flush she could feel, she internally cursed. She’d hoped everyone had been too preoccupied to pay attention to her and Elliot, but knew that had probably been too much to hope for. She knew the rumor mill had picked right back up when he’d returned, and people realized they were talking again. “Alright, yes, I’m meeting Elliot for dinner. But it’s not a date. We’re just going to do some catching up over Chinese. We haven’t really had much time to just talk since he came back.” She ignored the pointed look he shot her, and appreciated that Amanda and Kat at least pretended not to be interested, as she finally made it back into her office. She heard his footsteps though, saw him shut the door behind him as she sat down behind her desk.

“You sure about this? I just don’t want you getting hurt. Don’t forget, I was here when he left.” She could see the worry clouding his face, and resigned to give him the truth. After all, he’d been there for it all.

“I’m sure. We’re…Taking things slow. We’ve talked, and while neither one of us is ready to just jump straight into a relationship, we’ve discussed it, and have agreed that’s where we’re heading. So we flirt some, and we spend time together, and we talk. We’re not defining it yet. I know it sounds like dating, and maybe in a way it is. But what’s important to us is rekindling our friendship, first and foremost. We’ve already talked about why he left, how he left. And I’ve told him not only what it did to me, but I’ve told him what he missed. He was…Devastated. It turns out the whole family was in France at the time, and by the time the kids came back, it had already become old news. He swore he would have come back had he known, and I believe him. I’d always wondered if he’d just stopped caring, but if you’d seen how he looked, you’d have had to believe him too. So yes, I’m sure about this. We’re going to take things slow for now, but we know where we’re going to end up, even if we aren’t sure when that will happen. Speaking of Elliot though, I’m going to take a few personal days next week to help him get moved into his new place. He gets the keys on Sunday, and his furniture comes Monday.”

He still looked a little worried, but she could tell he would take her at her word. “If you say so. I have to say, I’m surprised you guys already talked about that. But I’m glad. You deserve to be happy Liv, and I think he’ll make you happy. And don’t worry, I’ll cover next week for you. And I’ll let the others know you’ll be taking some time, and make sure they don’t ask you any questions.” He turned and left the office, leaving the door open behind him as he went back to his desk, stopping to talk to Amanda and Kat on his way.

Putting her glasses on and picking up her pen, she smiled to herself as she went back to her paperwork. She still had a lot to work through before it was time to head out, though she was hoping the anticipation would make the time pass faster. Afterall, it wasn’t every day she got to head home to a hot meal and an even hotter man, not that she’d tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough.

[ofangelos-archive]

angelos almeida back with his third studio album entitled, “are you proud of me ?” 

“this album... it’s probably the most personal one i’ve put out yet. there was a lot of hesitation with this one-- a lot of push and pull. i had to delve back into my past to write some of these songs, and honestly it was... scary. it was terrifying remembering the mental state i was in. i’ve never claimed to be a good guy: you can listen to my second album if you want a taste of how bad my actions were. this album though, i’m not talking about what i did, or who i did or... anything like that. it’s how i felt. and i realized i need to open up more about my past. i need to be more upfront and honest. this album is a journey from beginning to end. i started off alone, but... now i’ve got people who love me, and that means the world to me. but no matter how much i’ve grown, i need to realize that i’m still me. that this growth is me. i hope you like it; i hope you’re proud of me.”

i. sorry. “i don't love myself, yeah, i'm no good for my health. i was tryna find happiness somewhere else, but i search, search, search and found nothing. keep finding nothing. i regret all my pasts but i like when i bleed, ‘cause if i'm feeling something, then i'm feeling free. numb to the fact that my heart black, so many missed calls, i lost track, put on a facade like i'm all that. deep down, feeling like i lost that. feel like i lost myself, feel like i lost it all. am i the only one that feels like this ? sorry for the man i am, sorry for the man i’ve been.” 

“before i met my wife, i went through a lot of people. i kept looking for this thing called love, but i never found it in anyone. people would make me feel less empty-- like i was wanted, but... it was just never enough. i was numbed out most of the time, faded as fuck because that was the only time i could really feel anything. it’s... hard to talk about because i didn’t just use the drugs and the alcohol... it got to a point where i needed them to function. i still deal with addiction to this day-- i’m clean now, but... it’s always something i have to look out for. it’s always going to be a part of me. i started with this song to get the apologies out of the way. if i’m going to acknowledge my past, i have to acknowledge the people i’ve hurt. and tell i’m sorry. because i am. and they deserve that.”

ii. maybe it’s today. “what's the world to a man without his soul ? yeah i've had it all, had it all but still alone. hate that i'm so empty, wish that i could change. well maybe it's today... yeah i had it all, built me up on hype but still feeling less. see me living out dreams, but don't see my emptiness. i had to hit the ground, dark depression building up. you could say you understand me, but really nobody does.” 

“i’m just not an open person. especially when it comes to my family. the only people that really know everything about me... my mom... my dad... are marnie and ricky. ricky’s been there since i was a little kid--- he’s been there through everything. he’s never once given up on me, and i know that’s hard to do. marnie’s my soulmate. she knows everything about me: i think she knows me better than i know myself sometimes. but that’s it. i’m not trying to excuse my past. because most of it is unacceptable under any terms, but... there’s more to the story than most people know.” 

iii. alone. “and i hope you don't judge me, all i know is how to be who i am. and if you start to touch me, i hope you know the place where we stand. don't tell me that you love me, ‘cause i won't love back. don't tell me that you need me, ‘cause i don't need that. don't tell me that you want me, ‘cause i'm on my own.”  

“this song is about... literally all of my past relationships. i couldn’t really handle the emotional side of relationships as well as i could handle the physical side of things, to put it in short. even when i was in a relationship, i just felt so alone because i couldn’t make that connection. i wanted to feel wanted because... i just... i had never felt that before, and it was addicting to know that people thought of me. that someone thought i was worth something. but whenever someone expressed that openly, it terrified me. because i knew i would let them down without a doubt. i was alone.” 

iv. myself. “i'm not concerned with drama, i left that shit in school. i'm more concerned with commas than keeping up with you. keep that away from me, i put the heisman up to bad energy. no empathy, especially when the kid off hennessy. fake friends to me make my mood go south like tennessee, make the fool come out like, "who is he ?" i mean, i'm trying to tell y'all, i'm better by myself.” 

“there’s some more recent influence in this song. but the overall message about being better by myself is based in the past. i shut people out... i still do to most people.”

v. i’m gone. “designer on me, i’m covered in that gucci. is that tension in the air ? or baby, is that just me ? too strong, i'm gone, yea. let me switch this flow up real quick. go getter, v for vendetta. whatever, i just do better. trendsetter, search for the cheddar, no pressure, float like a feather. smooth dude, big moves, big trees, like snoop. now i'm back, let me bring it back to the track, oh, yea, can't stop, won't stop, yea. it's too late, for me. i poured it too strong, now, baby, i'm gone.” 

“if you would’ve told me back then that i’d have the life i have now, i would’ve laughed right in your face. i was gone. i thought there was no coming back from who i’d become. i was living just because i kept waking up in the morning. there was no reason besides that.”

vi. bruv. “now my state of mind is every single thing i drop. you told me never lose yourself just to reach the top. you say i'm growing up, but got a lot to learn. stopped living reckless when i felt the afterburn, always had a passion that be different from the rest. i’m to driven to give you anything but my best. remember when i thought i had this figured out ? i don't know what i'm doing now... but i wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for my brother now. it's all you, yeah, it's all you i'ma make you proud of me.” 

“he knows who he is.”

vii. i just. “i just want you girl, never can i want more, got my mind right but you’re still here. no one knows what i feel here. couple scars from my past now, but i’’l let them heal here, yeah i'm scared to death, you deserve the best, i’m not good enough.” 

“marnie was different. from the moment i saw her, she was different. maybe it’s ‘cause i was faded off my ass, but... the way she carried herself... the way she didn’t take shit from me like everybody else did. she wasn’t afraid of me. she made me feel human. i thought she was great. i thought i wasn’t good enough. she’s helped me heal more than anybody else. she taught me that i’m not broken.” 

viii. lookatyou (interlude). “for you, i’ll travel 'cross the world. 20 hours in a plane just 'cause you my girl. wanna see you smile; fuck the diamonds and the pearls. promise me your pretty heart will never ever change, promise me your pretty soul will always stay the same. hope one day i can see your ass like all the time, wake up in the morning; wish you right here by my side. see all of these boys holler at you all the time. you were lookin' at these boys like it's funny that they try. yea, yea. i hope all of your dreams come true, yea, yea. i hope i get to see you improve, yea, yea. even though for you, that's a tough thing to do, ‘cause look at you, look at you, look at you.”

“i found this little song that i wrote when marnie and i first started... well... not dating. both us insisted we weren’t dating. but she was the only person i was seeing, and i was the only one she was seeing too.”

ix. dreams. “i had a dream about you last night, your eyes were shining so bright. those lips and that bittersweet smile, i need this forever. beautiful dream, yea, yea. don't know what it means, yea, yea. all i know is i don't know, but i need this forever. you give me feelings that i can't explain to you. girl, i was cold for a while, now i'm something new. tell me what you want, anything at all, i got it though. swear to god we unstoppable, yea.” 

“marnie completely changed me as a person. she’s made me so much more confident in myself. so much more secure in my thoughts... i’m something new. because of her. i give her full credit for helping me become the man that i am today. the man that’s happy to tell the world that i have a badass wife and a beautiful kid. i need this forever, and now i have it forever.”

x. cartier. “and that's the thing, that thing right there. yea, that's my girl, i can't share. maybe i'm selfish, i get a little jealous. i lose my mind when you say that. balmain silk slip off your back, you get so impatient. i know you got your cravings, so tell me you didn't tell all of your girlfriends about this. tell me you still think my neighbors don't know, girl, you shout it. girl, i know that you've been trying, i swear i'm the proudest, but the question is, girl, do you think that you could live without it ? nothing on you when you naked ‘cept a cartier bracelet. silhouette through the shower, fuck you 24 hours. sun peeking through the curtains, know i'm with you when you're hurting, baby girl, the world's ours.” 

“marnie and i are both jealous people. god, especially when we first started seeing each other. shit was wild. she’s wild. i love her. i can’t stop smiling. maybe we weren’t the best couple when we started off-- maybe we still aren’t to other people. but i love us. i love everything we’ve been through.”

xi. mine. “you so fucking precious when you smile, hit it from the back and drive you wild. girl i lose myself up in those eyes, i just had to let you know you're mine. i'm so fucking happy you're alive, swear to god i'm down if you're down all you gotta say is right. girl anything i can do just to make you feel alright, oh. i just had to let you know you're fine. running circles 'round my mind, even when it's rainy all you ever do is shine. you on fire, you a star just like mariah. man this feel incredible, i'll turn you into a bride, you're mine.” 

“i could talk about marnie for days, and it wouldn’t be enough time to truly express how i feel about her. i want to be the best person i can be for her. the growth never stops. i’m constantly trying to improve. she’s my girl. i’d do anything for her. i love her so much--- more than i thought it was possible to love someone. it’s exhilarating. 

xii. fuck this club. “hair done up high, dressed to the nines. tell me what is a man supposed to do ? with that gucci black dress and pearls around your neck, thinking 'bout how they would look up on my floor, so by any little chance you want to take a chance. we could close up our tab, hit the road. baby, let's go, girl, fuck that club, leave with me...” 

“i also found this old song and had to put it on the album. i remember this night exactly. it was the first night i met marnie. i couldn’t take my eyes off of her. i couldn’t stop talking to her. i couldn’t just... walk away. god, she’s so perfect. i love her.” 

[divagonzo]

Hello ! I wanted to thank you for all the information you provide about Ace people, because not so much is said about them - and I didn't even know it existed before I came on Tumblr ! Well, I hesitate, but I wanted to ask you something (but I don't want to be rude, so you can tell me to piss off). You write a lot of stories that include sex, and I know you can talk about it... Isn't it uncomfortable ?Don't Ace people not feel sexual attraction ? *blush and hide*

Evenin’ other Nonnie. I’m glad that my experiences are of help.

Secondly, I’d never tell anyone to piss off, not unless they’ve been a complete berk towards me first.

Now…. to answer your question…. it’s under a cut since other aces that follow me might be uncomfortable with what I will explain under the read-more.

Am I uncomfortable discussing such? No, and that’s because it took a few decades to realize who I truly am, how I perceive things, and I will not be silenced from speaking up and out on the issue - not when people are gatekept from the Community, not when people are called Prudes (and not as a virtue!), called Cold Fish, called Potatoes, subjected to intense negative peer pressure to act out in ways that are highly uncomfortable, or in some regards, doing performative heteronormative behaviors when that is of zero interest to them. As long as society considers those who don’t feel those things as broken, as long as society forces behaviors that have long-term negative consequences just to fit in, causing even more emotional damage long-term then I will speak up and out on it - and leave my box open and on Anonymous for anyone who needs some wisdom or to make their first time coming out (whether it’s Pan, Bi, Gay, Ace, Trans - whatever. I have no judgments when it comes to the orientation of others.)

I am a subset of the Ace spectrum, in that for me to feel that way requires someone putting together a 3000 piece puzzle - or making a Rube Goldberg machine actually work. There are so many bits and levers and timing that have to just fall into place for me to feel that way towards someone. In this case, it’s been a very small handful in my (almost) 45 years.

In fact, I can count it all on one hand - with fingers left over. And not all of them were men, either. (More on that later.) The only crushes I had (where it was an actual crush) one treated me cruelly for finding out and the other? His wife knows how I felt then - but not now. (And his wife and I are good friends.)

I’ll freely admit that I have significant trust issues (which I work on daily with the tools at my disposal) along with a temper (which doesn’t get fed enough thankfully.) So for me to learn to trust someone takes a very, very long time to get there. In fact, the only one who didn’t take forever and a day was my Hubs. (We joke that it’s his pheromones.)

The one that wasn’t a man? I’ve known them over 25 years now, going on almost 30 now. (Have I mentioned I’m old? Well, I am.) We’ve been through so much that it’s not funny. I know things that no one else knows and I cherish that trust they have in me. And they, bless their beautiful empathetic heart and soul, waited on me to figure it all out. (And that took about 15 years!)

Thing is, everyone knew. I just had to admit it. I thought I was being circumspect. Nope. Their partner said it was like I had a flashing blinking light above my head.

D’oh!

But the other issue is… I never acted upon it. Ever.

And by not acting upon it (and causing untold drama and problems x 100) and waiting to figure things out brought me to a major epiphany:

It wasn’t physical what I was needing. It was emotional and mental (and spiritual) intimacy.

That’s the big thing about being Ace (at least for me): The outer meat bag means very little to me. It’s about that heart, soul, mind, and brilliance.

By not acting on such, I am incredibly privileged in having some of the best friends that money can’t buy - and a husband who I adore and trusts me completely. I have that emotional intimacy with the Hubs and the other one (along with the others in my very, very close circle of friends who I trust with my life.)

So, for me to have found the Unicorn (or in this case, a herd of Unicorns), I’ve learned how I can show affection to those whom I hold closest and dearest - and not wonder if “Do they think I’m crossing a line” or “Am I crossing my own line and gonna regret such?”

(It went so far as to be stand-offish with most women, ‘cept for the very, very few I trust. That’s only relented in the last couple of years.)

So for me writing s*x and things of a s*xual nature is a celebration, a joy, an intimacy that transcends the physical into the emotional, mental, and spiritual.

But I also derive great joy writing scenes where girlfriends are sharing those moments, being vulnerable and knowing that the others are ride or die (even if there were tossers who said that it was cheating on their male partners. Bollocks and bullshit.)

So… if you found your Unicorn, you’d do anything and everything asked to tend it daily, cherish it, and love it, even if some feelings took a very long time to get there, and that there’s no one else that you’ve really felt that way with anyone else.

One of the things that I did learn from one of my nearest and dearest is that even though they might not feel that particular attraction, the love is there by the gross - even if they don’t want to bang on their partner. They are the rock their partner depends on so they can spread their wings, and reach for goals that make them happy.

It’s absolutely incredible to have more than one who makes up my heart, as cold, stringy, black, and withered as it is.

[himbowelsh]

For Baberoe: 5 times Babe kissed someone on a dare and one time he liked it.

AN: damn this got real wild real quick (ft babe/spina, babe/julian, babe/grant/lieb, OF COURSE babe/roe, and catch me sneak my own rarepair in there (tab/shifty)

It’s not so much the idea that Babe should start a kissing marathon as it is the idea that he can’t.

“Not possible,” Bill declares, sounding so sure of himself that Babe wants to punch him on principal. He’s got his arms crossed and is shaking his head. Whenever Bill declares something “not possible”, it probably means nothing good, and whenever he looks that confident, he deserves to get hit.

“What the hell do you mean?” Babe demands, sitting up straight. Bill is unimpressed.

“When was the last time you kissed someone? Like, actually kissed them?” He pauses, allowing Babe a few seconds of contemplation. Babe opens his mouth, closes it again, and that’s all Bill needs to see. “I’ll tell you exactly when. Doris, your junior year of high school.”

Babe remembers Doris well. She had large boobs, brown hair, and lips as hungry as a starving lion. Babe was sure he was supposed to like it, because every time his friends looked at him with her something green and jealous sparked in their eyes. He endured Doris for a whole month before declaring “not again, never again”.

Doris broke up with him on his birthday. It was the best gift she could have given him.

He remembers Doris well (hell, he’s still traumatized from Doris); he just wishes Bill didn’t remember her too.

Spina munches loudly on a carrot stick as he leans forward, eyes alight with interest. Babe hopes he chokes. “Ohh, that the girl who triggered Babe’s Great Gay Awakening?”

Bill nods sagely. “The very one.”

“Legendary.”

Fran looks a little disturbed, like she can’t comprehend anyone being that bad. (And, in truth, she wasn’t that bad, she was just aggressive. Babe would rather not think about it.) Julian, who witnessed the Doris drama and subsequent aftermath firsthand, only looks a little gleeful as he shoves a handful of chips into his mouth.

“I hate you all,” Babe announces. “And I could totally get anyone to kiss me if I wanted to. I could kiss everyone in this room.”

Bill points a thumb at himself, and Babe is forced to quickly revise his earlier statement. “‘Cept you. My lips would fall off if they went anywhere near you.”

This is much better. Bill nods as if this makes perfect sense, while Frannie sends him a thumbs up. Spina just snorts. “Can’t be worse than Darlin’ Doris.”

Maybe it’s this that sets him off. Maybe it’s just that any mention of Doris and Babe’s final, explosive endeavor into heterosexuality is a Button, and Spina just slammed his fist down on the Button so hard that it almost broke. Maybe he’s just mad.

Whatever it is, Babe storms up to Spina, straddles his lap, and plants his lips on his friend’s mouth.

There’s no time for anyone else, let alone poor Spina, to process what’s happening. He goes shock-still against Babe’s kiss, paralyzed. It’s like making out with a brick wall, but Babe is damn determined. He cups the back of Spina’s neck and deepens his kiss. A soft whine sounds in the back of Spina’s throat, and Babe can taste the remnants of carrots.

(He doesn’t even like carrots. Why couldn’t Spina have been eating chocolate?)

It takes a few seconds, but Babe feels the exact moment Spina gives himself up to the kiss. He sags against Babe’s chest, pressing back with his lips, and Babe can feel his friend’s heart rate begin to quicken against his chest.

This, plus the increasing need for air, is his cue to pull away. He draws back to find Spina breathless, panting, totally shell-shocked.

Without a word he slides off of Spina’s lap and turns back to the rest of the room. His friends are all gaping at him in various degrees of shock and confusion. Bill’s jaw has dropped; Julian looks ready to faint; Fran is staring like he’s just sprouted a brand new head.

“It’s been years since you kissed someone?” Spina demands, eyes wide.

Babe’s mouth quirks sideways, an easy confidence taking over his posture. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m out of practice.”

With that, he turns on his heel and strides out of the room. “Challenge accepted, by the way!” he calls over his shoulder. “We’ll see how many people I can kiss!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear the smack of a palm against someone’s forehead, and Spina’s muttered “Jesus” as he makes his way out of the house.

He knows he’s not going to have such an easy time with the next one. He might have been able to wow Spina, but it’s true that he’s out of practice. While his friend’s reaction suggests he has nothing to worry about, Babe still wants to know what he’s doing.

There are probably other people he could ask, but if he’s going off of experience alone, he can think of no one on earth who’s kissed more people than Floyd Talbert.

“You -- you want me?” Tab looks unexpectedly nervous after Babe’s pitch. His hands dig into the knees of his jeans; he looks like he’s not sure whether to laugh or stare.

“Just to teach me. Show me what I’m doing and all that. Nothing personal!”

Babe sits himself down on the bench across from Tab, swinging one leg over to face him. Just behind Tab’s shoulder, Shifty wears a frown on his face. That he’s being silent is not a surprise, but Shifty doesn’t often look troubled by many things. Babe isn’t sure what to think of the expression on his friend’s face now, but it is almost enough to give him pause.

(Does Shifty want Babe to kiss him too? Or is he just upset that Babe’s interrupted their afternoon? Shifty and Tab looked very comfortable together on the bench when Babe spotted them. Shifty had been leaning into Tab’s side as he showed him something on his phone, and they seemed like the picture of good friends. Babe hopes he hasn’t intruded on them hanging out.)

The look on Shifty’s face is almost enough to make him reconsider, but Tab rallies. He takes a deep breath, draws his shoulders up, then turns to his friend.

“I,” he says. “If you don’t want -- do you mind, or --”

Shifty hastily holds up his hands. “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Okay. Great.”

Tab wipes his palms on his knees as he spins back to face Babe. Something about this seems off. Maybe it's the glimmer of nervousness in Tab’s eyes (when has Floyd Talbert ever been nervous about kissing someone); maybe it’s the terse set to Shifty’s jaw; maybe it's just the growing feeling that he's intruding on something he really shouldn't be intruding on. Babe doesn't know, but a part of him regrets kissing Tab and he hasn't even started yet.

“Uhh,” he says as Tab leans in a bit. “Are you -- you sure you know what you're doing --”

“Don't worry,” Shifty pipes up. “He does.” Then Tab’s face flares red, and so does Shifty’s -- and, hell, so does Babe, and he's not even sure why.

Tab bites on his lower lip and squares himself before huffing out an exhale. “Aww hell, Babe, just do it.”

That's all Babe needs to hear. He doesn't hesitate before leaning in and pressing his lips to Tab’s.

It's… not what he expected. He's seen Talbert kiss -- he's seen the heat, the fire, the intensity he can bring to any liplock. The guy is practically a kissing pro, so there’s no reason macking on him should be like liplocking with a dead fish. It is, however. Tab doesn't move, doesn't reciprocate, barely even breathes.

Babe takes notes anyway. He observes the casual positioning of Tab’s body, the way he lets his breathing shallow just so. He notes the movement of his lips, the subtle pressure put into the kiss. It’s all very scientific. Definitely not what Babe was expecting, but he isn’t complaining.

When Talbert pulls back (sooner than Babe expected), he looks like he’s just been stung by a bee. Babe really hopes that’s not the sort of reaction his kiss elicits out of people; his worry must show, because Tab scrambles to reassure him.

“That was good. Great job, Babe, you’ve really… got the hang of it. You satisfied?”

There’s something a little stressed out in his voice, an edge Babe can’t place. He nods, because it’s not a lie, and seems like the right thing to do. Then his eyes flicker back towards Shifty.

It’s like a tiny piece of the world slips out of alignment -- like suddenly the sky is green instead of blue, or a dinosaur pops out of the ground. Babe’s stomach plunges to his feet, while his heart leaps into his throat. An icy chill runs down his spine.

He’s never seen Shifty look angry before. He’s definitely never seen him look like this -- a single stone’s throw away from his eyes going black and starting to scream demonic curses. It’s terrifying. In that moment Babe does not see Shifty, the mild-mannered guy who sits next to him in Philosophy. He sees the same kid who was raised in the Virginia backwoods, and once shot an apple off Hoobler’s head from across the room.

He is seized with the sudden fear that Shifty might carry a gun on him at all times, and in two seconds that gun might be trained on him.

“Uhh, yeah! Sure! Thanks, buddy!” Babe leaps to his feet, hastily clapping Tab on the shoulder. “Sorry for interrupting your guy time, I’ll just go now.”

Talbert says nothing. He still looks a little mortified by the whole ordeal. It’s Shifty who offers him a sweet-as-honey smile and says, “See you around, Babe.”

He has no clue what just happened, but Babe can’t leave them alone fast enough.

Babe’s got his pride, sure; but when put in retrospect, he also has a limited pool of friends. Good friends are hard to come by. Friends you wouldn't mind kissing are even moreso. Friends he'd both be willing to kiss and trust with his life are in short supply, and Julian just barely qualifies for both categories.

If only he'd stop being so stubborn about it.

“Screw off!” Julian hollers, and Babe ducks a pillow aimed at his head. “I ain't kissin’ you!”

Julian’s throaty Alabama twang is leaking into his Philly accent, the way it always does when he's agitated. It makes him kind of sound like he's been gurgling molasses and glass. It's terrifying, and Babe’s lucky he can understand a word he says.

“Don't be like that.” He catches the next pillow that sails at him as Julian ducks behind the couch. “Jules, come on. There's no running away from this.”

“The hell there isn't! You watch me!”

Babe is watching; he wishes he weren't. “Julian.”

He can see his friend’s shadow as he shuffles along the floor. He looks like a baby just getting the hang of crawling. It's a little pathetic. When he takes a step forward, a sneaker comes flying at his head.

“Jules, I'm going to get you!”

“That's a threat! You're threatening me!” Julian hollers back. Babe rolls his eyes.

He studies his friend’s shadow as Julian slowly raises himself into a crouch. He can hear heavy breathing from behind his sanctuary, can see the erratic rhythm of Julian’s shoulders. He counts down the seconds in his head: three… two… one…

Julian sprints, but Babe is ready. He launches himself over the couch, tackling Julian and getting his arms around his shoulders. Julian doesn't go down, but Babe forces him away from the door. He tries to pin Julian against the couch, but Julian just topples backwards, and the both go head over heels.

When Babe gets his bearings again, he's lying on the couch. Julian is pinned under him, looking simultaneously pissed off and defeated.

Babe smirks. “I win.”

It takes a few seconds for Julian to break, but Babe sees the moment he does. The last of the fight drains out of him, and he sighs like Babe’s lips are the greatest imposition ever forced upon him. “Fine,” he mutters. “Lay it on me.”

So, Babe does.

Julian tastes like the coke he was drinking just before Babe ambushed him. His lips are chapped and chewed; he’s holding his breath, his entire body frozen in uncertainty. Has Julian ever kissed anyone before? Babe is pretty sure he has (he has to have, right?) but the lingering uncertainty only fuels his determination to make this kiss count.

He leans into Julian a bit more, deepening the kiss, and allows his tongue to brush against his friend’s lips. Julian lets out a tiny gasp, mouth parting of its own accord, and his fingers dig into Babe’s shoulders. He pulls him closer.

It doesn’t take Babe long to find his rhythm. Kissing, he’s starting to learn, is all about keeping in tune with the other person. It’s like dancing, and he’s one hell of a good dancer, so this is no different. He moves against Julian’s mouth, pressing and lightening at every indication from Julian’s eager lips. He’s not trying to overwhelm his friend, but it’s obvious that Julian’s getting too eager from the way he leans up even when Babe starts to pull back.

Babe presses him back down, breaking away. “Jules,” he huffs, looking into his friend’s dazed face. “Easy. Take it easy.”

He matches his breathing with Julian’s, helping his friend calm his ragged pants. Slowly Julian returns to his senses. “Oh my god,” he murmurs when he’s able to talk again. His head dips back against the couch, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Babe isn’t sure what he did, but he’s pretty positive he broke him. “Uhh… Jules?”

“Get off me, Babe,” Julian tells him, so that’s what Babe does.

“So, this is a dare, right?”

Babe shrugs, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it down on the table again. “Something like that. I guess. It's hard to explain, ya know?”

Grant hums in agreement, while Liebgott snorts into his own drink. “Oh yeah. Yup. Real rocket science.”

“I'm just amazed he's gotten so many people to kiss him this far,” Liebgott drawls, leaning in with that all-too-familiar smirk on his face. “Spina? Julian? I can see them, but Talbert while he was on a date? That takes some balls.”

It takes Babe a second to process this. He blinks, not quite understanding what Liebgott is saying, until he remembers the dark look in Shifty’s eyes, and the radiating anxiety of Talbert. Oh, he thinks to himself. Realization drops onto his head like an anvil. Huh. That makes sense.

“What a legend,” agrees Grant. “You're really proving your point.”

Babe glares into his beer. He needs better friends. “I guess.”

He doesn’t see Grant and Liebgott exchange glances, but he can imagine it. He knows how his friends’ brains work. They have the same brand of semi-malicious deviousness (which Liebgott conceals beneath hard-shelled sarcasm, and Grant with smooth charisma) that comes out at the worst times. Babe has his own wicked streak, which is probably why they all get along so well.

He knows his friends are planning something as soon as Liebgott gets out of his seat and swings around to Babe’s side of the booth. Babe allows it, raising an eyebrow at his friend. Liebgott only smirks, resting his chin on his hand.

“So?” he says. “Show me what you got.”

“What? No.” Babe doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting this, but… it’s not happening. Liebgott is an attractive guy, to be sure (almost painfully attractive, with smooth skin, high cheekbones, and hair to die for) but that doesn’t mean Babe wants to put his lips on his friend. Kissing Liebgott and Grant, he feels, is crossing a line that doesn’t exist with the guys he’s been friends with all his life. With Bill and Julian, there are no boundaries. With his college friends, however --

“Babe.” Liebgott is closer now, near enough that Babe’s vision is filled with his plump red lips. It would be so easy to just lean in…

“Do it,” Liebgott whispers, and so Babe does.

Unlike everyone else, Liebgott is ready, experienced, and eager. As soon as Babe’s lips are on his, he feels a hand sneak up to cup the back of his neck. Not to be outdone, Babe kisses deeper and sucks a bit of Liebgott’s bottom lip into his mouth. He feels the other man huff against him, a small satisfied noise escaping Liebgott’s throat.

He’s not sure why he didn’t think Liebgott would be an aggressive kisser, but he is. Teeth nip at Babe’s lips. Liebgott sucks, ambitious and determined, unafraid to get close. By the time  they part for air Babe is breathless for a different reason. He’s not certain whether he was kissing Liebgott, or Liebgott was kissing him.

His friend offers him a tiny smirk, and Babe forces himself to breathe. What the hell was that?

“No need to look so shocked,” Grant chimes, sounding thrilled. When Babe looks up at him, he sees his friend is watching him with a glint in his eye. “My turn.”

“You’re kidding me,” Babe says -- and that’s all he has time to say, because suddenly Grant is sitting on the other side of him, and Liebgott is watching them both expectantly.

Babe has two options here. He could put a stop to all of this, here and now; or he could roll with it.

Ahh, what the hell? Any damage has already been done. How much worse can it get from here?

“I’m choosing to believe you guys are just trying to be helpful friends,” Babe tells them; then he grabs Grant by the front of his shirt and pulls him forward to kiss him.

Kissing Grant is sweeter than kissing Liebgott, but twice as sensual. He’s certainly not shy. After a few seconds of Babe’s lips moving against his, Grant places his hands on Babe’s elbows and guides him along, pulling him closer. This time Babe is the one to feel a tongue brush against his lips, and he can’t help the soft moan that leaves him.

When Grant pulls away, Babe feels a little dizzy, but he still manages to smile. “Real helpful,” he echoes, and Grant huffs out a throaty chuckle.

“You’re one hell of a kisser, Heffron,” he tells him. “Too bad I’m better.”

That’s when Babe has to pull away and down the rest of his drink, because he feels a little like he’s burning up. That’s definitely not a feeling he should be getting from his friends, and he doesn’t want to think too deep into it, so he drains the rest of his (mostly full) glass before slamming it down on the table.

“Okay. Uhh. Anyone feel like darts?”

“Sounds good,” Grant says, and finishes off his shot. Liebgott is already out of his seat and walking towards the dartboard.

They don’t mention it for the rest of the night.

After Doris and all she entailed, Babe made a very solemn vow to himself. Girls were not for him. Dating girls was not his thing; touching them was not up his alley; kissing them was not a thing he wanted to do. After Doris, he swore he would never kiss another girl again.

He has no desire to. He has no reason to.

Frannie Peca is very good at giving people reasons to do things.

“Come on,” she coaxes, inching closer to Babe on the sofa. He, in turn, scoots further back. “It doesn't mean anything! Geez, Babe, of course not! Bill and I are practically married. I just can't stand the thought of you being… you know, being --”

“Scarred?” Babe volunteers. “Haunted?”

Fran snaps her fingers. “Exactly. Whatever that girl did to you, you've gotta know that there's more to kissing girls than… that.”

Babe takes a deep breath. Never again, echoes a voice in the back of his mind. He doesn't know how to express his resolution to Fran without sounding pathetic, though, so he just frowns. Of course kissing Fran wouldn't mean anything -- hell, she’s practically his sister -- but kissing her sounds as appealing as putting his lips on a fish.

(He’s seen the way she and Bill make out. It’s like two wild animals trying to gnaw each others’ faces off. Babe doesn’t want to get anywhere near that.)

“Frannie,” he says, “I like you, I appreciate you, and I know you’d kill a man for me. I just don't trust that you won't try to eat me.”

Fran looks like she wants to laugh out loud. Instead she tilts her head, sending Babe a cool look. “‘I could kiss everyone in this room,’” she sings out, pitching her voice in an (alarmingly accurate) impression of Babe. He can't help wincing.

He did say that. He remembers those words coming out of his mouth like it was yesterday, and he meant it, too. Of all the ways to cap off his kissing marathon, macking one on the girlfriend of the guy who dared him in the first place seems like as good a finale as any.

“Jesus,” he sighs, then leans in. “Fine. Pucker up, Frannie.”

“That's the least romantic thing you could ever say before kissing someone --” Fran comments, because she's just as bad as Bill at shutting her mouth. Babe does it for her, cutting her off by cupping the back of her neck in his hand and pulling her forward. She doesn't get the chance to squeal in surprise; a second later, Babe’s lips are pressed against hers.

Frannie isn’t a bad kisser, Babe will give her that. She’s also not over-aggressive. She knows where Babe’s boundaries are, and she’s mindful not to cross them. She lets him take the lead, kissing back only when she feels him kiss her. Babe’s jaw is tight with tension until a manicured hand comes up to slowly massage it.

He’s more concerned about the lipstick he’s probably getting on his face than his body’s (expected, at this point) lack of physical reaction. When Fran breaks away from him, there’s an inquiring look in her eyes. Babe licks his lips and shrugs.

“Okay, I give,” he says. “You’re a better kisser than Doris.”

“You better believe it,” Fran retorts, sounding delighted.

That would and should have been the end of it -- but at that moment, the door had to slam open. Bill takes two steps in the room and stops cold. He takes in Babe’s lipstick-covered face, his girlfriend’s hand still lingering on top of Babe’s own, and his eyes go huge.

“Yo,” says Babe.

Bill charges at him.

“THE ONE GUY,” he hollers as he pursues Babe around the room like an incensed bull. “THE ONE GUY I DIDN’T HAVE TO FUCKIN’ WORRY ABOUT!”

“Bill, for fuck’s sake, sit down,” Fran snaps, leaning back against the sofa.

“I’LL WRING YOUR SCRAWNY GINGER NECK!”

Babe can’t say anything, because he’s too busy running for dear life. He’s gone up against a livid Bill before, and knows the odds are not in his favor. Also, Bill protecting Frannie is like Angry Bill times five, so his threats to kill him might very well be serious.

“Jesus -- christ --” he shouts over his shoulder as he sprints up the stairs. “Bill, it was for the contest, you know I wouldn’t --”

“YOU KISSED MY GIRL FOR THE STUPID CONTEST?”

Admittedly, Babe’s judgement may have been flawed.

He makes it up the stairs with Bill three feet behind him, and sprints for his room. If he can just get the door closed and locked, he’ll be safe. He’ll jump out the window if he has to, but at least he won’t face death at the hands of charging Bill --

They’re always telling Julian to get his sneakers out of the damn hallway, and Julian never listens. Julian really should listen.

Babe goes down like a ton of bricks, and the last thing he sees is a doorknob rushing towards his face.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in the backseat of Fran’s car, and the first thing he sees is blood in his hair. He makes a noise like a startled cat, and tries to sit up, only for a pair of hands to gently hold him still.

“Easy,” says a voice that Babe’s fuzzy mind takes a moment to recognize as his best friend’s. “You’re fine, Babe. Just don’t move.”

Babe blinks up at Bill, who’s two shades of pale as he cradles his head in his lap. He offers what he hopes is an apologetic smile. “It didn’t mean a thing,” he says. “It was just the dare. Sorry, buddy.”

Bill huffs out a strained laugh, and shakes his head. “Shut up, Heffron. I know. It’s okay, I know.”

At this point, Babe is a regular face at the local emergency clinic. He comes in often enough with various injuries, ranging from drunken accidents, ill-advised consumption of dubious foods, to regular old clumsiness. Bill has driven him to the hospital bleeding enough times that he’s stopped warning Babe not to get blood all over his car. (“I swear to god,” he muttered a few medical bills ago, “those nurses are gonna think we’re all knocking ya around or somethin’.”)

On the contrary, the nurses at the clinic all know Babe at this point, and like him. When he stumbles through the doors this time, Bill supporting him as he holds a towel full of ice to his forehead, Anna looks up from her desk and smiles her exasperated smile at him.

“What is it this time, Babe?” she asks. “Did you fall out a window? Slip at the pool?”

Babe shakes his head, ignoring how woozy it makes him feel. “Anna, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Renee is the one who shows him to his bed and takes his vitals, so she gets the full story. When Babe gets to the part about the sneakers, she clicks her tongue. She also doesn’t look surprised, and Babe’s not sure what that says about him.

“Doctor Roe will be here in a moment,” she tells him, giving him a fond pat on the shoulder after adjusting the pillow beneath his head. “Try not to injure anything else while you wait.”

Babe rolls his eyes, then regrets it, because that actually hurts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he replies, and Renee grins at him.

Once he's finally left alone (Bill and Fran, both used to the “get Babe to the hospital” drill by now, have gone to the smoothie place down the street -- because they're  supportive friends) Babe leans back against the pillow and allows himself to grin. Gene Roe is his favorite doctor, and one of his favorite people in general. He's stitched Babe up enough times that he could practically recite Babe’s entire medical history, yet he still insists on calling him Edward. He has a quiet, understated sense of humor, and a smile just as delightful. Babe has never seen steamer hands or kinder eyes. He's never met anyone like Gene Roe.

(So he's completely in love with his doctor. Sue him. He's here enough, he thinks he has the right.)

He's not really looking forward to telling Doc Roe this story, however. Roe already thinks he's kind of an idiot, but this will really be the nail in his coffin.

When the doctor walks in, wearing his crisp white lab coat and dark shadows under his eyes, Babe perks up. Roe looks him over and sighs, utterly unsurprised.

“I was hoping we wouldn't have to see you back here for awhile,” says Roe, setting down Babe’s chart.

“Aww, come on, Gene. You know I'm you favorite patient.”

“Most frequent patient,” Roe corrects, but he has a tiny smile on his lips. “What did you in today, Edward?”

Babe offers a sheepish smile. “Doc,” he says, “would you believe me if I told you this was all for a stupid dare?”

To his credit, Roe doesn't look fazed. Babe often wonders how often he hears this type of thing, or if he's just one of those people who nothing can get to. Either way, the slightly quirk of his eyebrows makes Babe fall even more in love.

“That so? What sort of dare is this?”

“A kissing dare.” Babe can't keep the boast out of his voice. “Friend of mine bet me I couldn't get a buncha people to kiss me. I told him I could. It was all going great for a while, too.”

“Lemme guess. Until you kissed his girlfriend.”

Babe can't help chuckling, a little embarrassed. “How'd you know?”

As Roe spreads the numbing alcohol over the cut in Babe’s temple, he huffs out what could almost be called a laugh. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Heffron. Plus, you’re not hard to figure out.”

What does that mean? Surely Roe doesn’t think he’s the type of guy to go around kissing other people’s girlfriends. That’s so far from Babe that they’re not even on the same level. “Aww, come on, Gene. It wasn’t like that. I’m not like that, believe me.”

He doesn’t wince at the feeling of the needle entering his skin. He’s too focused on the way Roe’s eyebrow quirks, as if Babe has just handed him a very interesting piece of information and he’s struggling to decide what to make of it.

“Not like that…” he echoes, and Babe huffs a breath.

“I like guys, for one. Plus, I’d never do anything like that to anyone. I’m a hell of a lot of things, but no one’ll say I ain’t loyal.”

This is not a conversation they’ve had before. For as many times as Babe has bantered with Gene, has admired him, has soaked up every bit of information he could learn about this enigmatic doctor -- he never shared this piece of himself.

He’s a little surprised at how interested Gene looks now. Almost... happy.

Gene doesn’t say another word for a long moment. There is only the sting of the needle stitching Babe’s skin, and Babe’s eyes boring into the doctor’s face. Only after Gene is done and has clipped the stitch does he say, “I know you’re loyal. I can tell that much.”

“I thought you had a sixth sense,” Babe jokes, and Gene huffs a small laugh.

“I don’t know what I’ve got,” he answers, and sets the needle aside. “So. Did it count?” When Babe raises his eyebrows, Gene shrugs. “The kiss. Did it count, even though she was Bill’s girlfriend? Or did it count, even though she was a girl?”

Babe feels a spark of something inside of him -- something crazy, hopeful, a little delirious. It might be that concussion talking, but he has the sudden image of Gene’s lips pressed to his, and feels a surge of bravery he didn’t know he had.

“I guess not,” he says. “I need one more kiss, then.”

Gene’s eyes come to rest on him. Babe stares back, calm despite the fireworks in his stomach.

When Gene sits down next to him on the bed, Babe feels almost giddy. “Let me get a look at that cut, Heffron.”

Gene’s fingers brush across his skin, leaving electricity in their wake. He is close, close enough that all it would take is to lean in a little bit, and Babe wants to but he’s also terrified.

“Gene,” he whispers. “Can I…”

Gene swallows. His head bobs, just the slightest bit, and Babe closes the distance between them.

He’s imagined kissing Gene (an embarrassing amount of times before), but no fantasy holds a candle to the real thing. Gene’s kiss is slow and soft, just enough to leave Babe yearning for more. When he presses further, determined to kiss Gene like he’s never been kissed before, a spark seems to pass between them; and suddenly Babe can’t get enough.

He grips Gene by the elbows, pulling him close. In response, Gene wraps his arms around Babe’s shoulders and leans in. At the same time, Babe’s lower lip is sucked into Gene’s mouth, and a rush of euphoria bursts inside of him. He can’t help but groan against Gene’s lips, and this only spurs the other man on.

By the time Gene’s tongue is in his mouth, Babe’s head is spinning. He can’t breathe; he couldn’t think, even if he wanted to. All he feels, all he wants to feel, is Gene, and dear god, Gene is perfect.

When they part for breath, the world spins around them both. Gene’s exhales are ragged; every rush of air in Babe’s lungs makes him feel like he’s drowning. His eyes are full of Gene’s own dark pools, his skin is electric from his touch, and he can’t quite remember who he is.

Slowly, slowly, Gene leans back. He’s smiling.

“You get extra points if you get someone’s number, too?”

And Babe doesn't know what to say, feels kind of like he’s been struck by lightning, so all he's able to do is not. “Yeah,” he croaks out. “Totally.”

Gene -- so handsome, so kissable Gene-- smiles and pulls out a pen. Babe barely has the chance to register what’s happening as the felt tip scrawls a series of numbers across the back of his hand before being recapped with a satisfying clink.

Gene nods to himself, approving his own work. He studies Babe’s hand, then his face, and a small smile quirks his lips. “That shouldn’t scar. Take it easy for a few days, just in case you do have a small concussion, but you seem alright. Don’t go tripping over any more shoes.”

Babe swallows. “I’ll do my best, Gene.”

With one last cryptic smile, Gene leaves him alone in the room. Babe takes a moment to catch his breath before slumping forward, pressing a hand to the uninjured side of his face.

He knows two things for sure: this ordeal is well-and-truly over; and that was the best dare he’s ever taken.

(Three things, he reconsiders as he enters Gene Roe’s number into his phone. He’s definitely going to stop visiting the clinic so much, because he’s got a funny feeling his doctor is up for house calls.)

[gloieee]

So it Goes

I’ve been having really good days. But I’ve been discovering more of Mac Miller lately and he wrenches heartstrings in so many ways. I resonate with him so hard in certain aspects. It’s uncanny.

10.12.2019

So interesting that I was feeling this way 10.12. 2019 haha. I doubt it was that day, since I was floundering in my essay editing. But maybe it was--maybe I just thought Mac Miller was beautiful enough to take a day off from my “business” writing. I have a feeling it was 10.15. 2019 vaguely. Likely was still having some very good days then.

Life is always a roller coaster and I appreciate it, I suppose. I remember distinctly loving “So it Goes,” but not having a way to connect it to how I felt then. It’s ironic how I feel like this song matches up the most to how I feel now. Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut, literature, one of my first loves. So it goes. I resonate with this one so deeply right now that I think i’ll indulge myself and break it down step by step.

So it Goes- Mac Miller

You could have the world in the palm of your hand You still might drop it So it goes

I love how he highlights how precarious satisfaction, happiness, and fulfillment can be. Although there’s a sadness to dropping something that was in the palm of your hand, it reminds me that every moment is precious. Every time you feel the world there, in your hand, it’s such a blessing. It’s a gentle perch rather than something to seize. The “so it goes” reminds me that that’s maybe how it’s supposed to be. It wasn’t a mistake on my end to drop it; maybe there never was a way I could have forced it to stay there—it’s just the way it goes. And even if I’m just completely self-justifying losing things, so it goes.

And everybody wanna reach inside your pockets I tell 'em "red light, stop it" Shit, that give me more headaches than alcoholics

Hm, I bring more flavor than all the seasons Winter, spring, summer, fall, the grass is always greener 'til I cut it all Please leave me to my studies, I give you no applause My hands been countin' money, and it's hard to be the boss But somebody gotta do it (it gets so exhausting) Often with the bullshit, but, baby, I been through it Enough for the both of us So come over later and we won't let no one close to us We could be posted up Yeah

So it goes It's like, in every conversation, we the topic This narcissism, more like narcotics So it goes

Everyone knows it’s a huge statement if I say something gives me more headaches than alcoholics. I do feel like some people are reaching inside my pockets, more often than I would like. I’m giving too much. It’s odd cause I always do say “red light, stop it,” yet there must be something about myself that makes it seem like a green light. The grass is always greener till I cut it all--this sounds so much like me that I can’t even. Maybe that’s why. Def don’t appreciate how it seems like I’m the one that’s going through the bullshit, more than one person’s share. But maybe it just is the narcissism that makes me think like this.

My eyes on the enterprise Nine lives, never die, fuck a heaven, I'm still gettin' high Never mind, did I mention I'm fine 'Cause her pussy gettin' wetter when the weather dry Clementine, peelin' off and everyone get left behind I'm only 5'7'' 'cept I'm feelin' like I'm 7'5"

No relaxing, kicking back, this ain't exactly in the plan I can't get no satisfaction, goddamn They sayin' I been gone too long I could just tell 'em fuck you, but that come on too strong My god, it go on and on Just like a circle, I go back to where I'm from

I love Mac Miller’s confidence (even when he’s down). I feel it too. Yet, despite all of that of course, it never goes as planned. It’s hard to be truly happy in your choices. I haven’t been good with choices this past year or so. Guess this past year, I had choices for the first time in a while. Oddly, even though I’m consciously trying to make intentional, balanced decisions, still my god, it does go on and on, just like a circle, I’m back to where I’m from. 

Been listening to some random songs on my spotify radio, alongside my main man Mac Miller, and it’s hilarious how serendipitous it is. Fell in Love with a Girl- The White Stripes followed by Over- Syd feat. 6lack. This kinda stuff makes me laugh out loud. The most impulsive love song ever, reflected in form by how fast-paced and short the song is. It’s perfect. 

Fell in love with a girl

I fell in love once and almost completely She's in love with the world But sometimes, these feelings can be so misleading "Come and kiss me by the riverside, yeah Bobby says it's fine, he don't consider it cheating, now. Can't keep away from the girl These two sides of my brain need to have a meeting Can't think of anything to do, yeah My left brain knows that all love is fleeting

It’s hilarious cause Bobby more often than not totally does think it’s cheating. I’ve loved this song since 2015 and it’s one of those songs that leaves such an impression each time I hear it. One of those forever bops. 

I’m realizing a lot of these random songs I was listening to without really looking at the lyrics were apt in some way. It’s almost as if Spotify now predicts my life, which is some black mirror shit right there. Some petty, fleeting tidbits:

Over- Syd feat. 6lack

Safe to say, I was right You was wrong, that's okay Why would you agree if you ain't build for the drama? I know when shit ain't right You can act if you wanna, girl I don't wanna say too much And I don't wanna make assumptions But lately I've been giving no fucks We don't know what we doing love How we gon' look for help when you don't know yourself?

(As an aside, realizing that 6lack is actually amazing. I thought he was just gonna be a temporary mainstream dude with “Ex Calling” and “PRBLMS” but East Atlanta Love Letter really makes me rethink him as an artist. He says it straight and I don’t even think he’s fronting, which is amazing.)

I did fluctuate between random moments of feeling all these things, albeit of course, very briefly and not as intensely as perhaps these lyrics denote. And yes they’re petty.  But it’s more a sentiment than an actual feeling:  

Loner- Kali Uchis

I just gotta put it out there And maybe it's not deliberate And I know you never asked me I don't want to be an option But if you don't want me now No, boy, I don't want you later Don't try to come and eat with me

Superficial Love- Ruth B.

You're really cute I must admit But I need something deeper than this Baby if you want me, then you better need me 'Cause I'm so done, not being your number one And if you wanna keep me then you better treat me Like a damn princess, make that an empress

This song is a subtle reminder of course that once I’m ready for something, I should be treated like an empress. We forget that sometimes.

I can feel you on my lips all the time But I just wanna feel you in my heart and on my mind

Actually so interesting cause this song is pointedly not how I feel in some ways. Makes me wonder whether what I want is superficial love. Which leads me to:

The Need to Know- Wale feat. Sza

Tryna keep it low Keep 'em on that need to know Tell everybody that we're just friends But to be honest that platonic shit's for TV shows

I'm not tryna pressure you Just can't stop thinkin' 'bout you You ain't even really gotta be my boyfriend I just wanna know your name And maybe some time, we can hook up We can hang out, we can just chill

Again, this song made me laugh today. A causal relationship maybe should be physical, yet here/there we are/ were. 

I know Fletcher means it more seriously and ironically (for good reason), but at the end of the day, despite all the bits of emotion I feel, in the best sense, it’s all love, in the most truly millennial diffusion-of-conflict way possible (All Love- Fletcher).  And to be honest, whatever this is (cause love is a grossly inappropriate word, just a good filler) is just a feeling (Love is Just a Feeling- Joey Badda$$). I was and am def more in the camp of Stwo and Jeremih, (Neither Do I- Stwo and Jeremih) and Drake currently to begin with, so it’s really all good in the end. 

The Motion- Drake

It's not me and you, it's not me it's you Say you're moving on, well, I guess that's just the motion I guess that's just the motion

Yeah, looking back on it, at least my pride is intact 'Cause we said "no strings attached" and I still got tied up in that Try being with somebody that wanna be somebody else I always thought she was perfect when she was being herself Don't even know how to help, but I guess that's just the motion, yeah She'll probably come around Soon as I settle down, that's the motion Oh-oh, I guess that's just the motion

Definitely have some doubts cause platonic shit’s for TV shows, but internally, I feel more settled. Having let it all out and explored all my petty fleeting roller coaster emotions these past few weeks, ultimately, I feel like it was actually a good learning experience, and a reminder of some things I value about myself. It’s a reminder to keep growing, to keep understanding myself, and to know my worth, which may have been a bit hazy these past few months on so many fronts. It’s hard in the moment, but if I look within myself, this is what I wanted and what I had been saying all along. It’s something I’ve never been able to fully execute before and really wanted to this time around, so I’m excited that that’s finally happening. And at least I do have some soft spots to look back on (If The World Was Ending- JP Saxe, Julia Michaels).

I’m excited to be more myself. So it goes, in the best way.

10.26.2019

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Mike’s Secret Girlfriend (Part 3)

Author: Nonexistantpup

Year: 2010

Rating: R

Pairing: Mike Fielding/ Other

Noel’s exploits achieved absolutely nothing. Mike hadn't said a thing, apparently, and their parents had been as oblivious as everybody else. Thus, Noel and Rich had seemed to come to the assumption that Mike had said he was taken just in order to escape an uncomfortable conversation. Satisfied with this conclusion, the whole issue became dull. Mike was single, and there was no point in looking too far into a single, misspoken statement. After a month - a month of recovery after the production and release of the movie, a month of occasional appearances in the press and a month of absolutely no indications that Mike had a love life - Dave was beginning to think the same way. Just a bit. A tiny bit. This changed one day when he was gathering material for his second book - second photography book, that was. The first had been unsurprisingly successful given that it was directly linked to the Boosh, but this one was not going to be. It was not to be related to the Boosh, that is. But it would, with any luck, still be a success, or at least stand strongly alone. Dave had some old shots he desperately wanted to do something with, and was taking the time to reconnect with his camera before whatever Boosh project Julian and Noel would decide to pursue next. He’d almost forgotten how absorbed he could become in photography. After having been dealing with moving pictures for so long now, the simple still-shot had started to seem lifeless. Just for a little bit though. A tiny bit. With (thankfully) healed elbows, Dave took the turn-off that led to Noel’s house. The man himself wasn’t here - away for the weekend, in fact - so there was no car and Dave could pull into the driveway. Something felt vaguely odd, even at this point, but he assumed it was just because he was here on his own. Not that Dave was breaking in, of course. Not really. He had only the back door key though, and something felt childishly exhilirating about sneaking around the building to get into somebody else's empty house, even if it was Noel's. Dave unlocked the back door and went inside through the laundry, kicking off his shoes automatically. He navigated his way to the kitchen with ease, but it was then that he stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re fucking insatiable, aren’t you?” said Michael Fielding, sounding vaguely amused. He was standing there with his back to Dave, stark naked, and seemed to be buttering a piece of toast. Of course, even from the back, and even without that lisp, Mike was utterly unmistakeable. His hair had grown longer over the past few months, almost to the point where he could pull off the Naboo look without a wig. Hours under the straighteners and oodles of product, of course, but no wig. Naturally, he very rarely did that, instead leaving it to look artsy and slightly frizzy. Dave personally liked the look, but Rich had been heard describing Mike as a ‘hairy little jungle boy’, and... there was some credence to that idea too. Dave blinked, taking in the love-bites on Mike’s neck and left shoulder - as well as a couple more which were located just below the back of his left knee. One of Mike’s hands moved down to rest upon his uncovered backside and squeezed it slightly. It was slightly reddened. How had Dave failed to notice that before? And there seemed to be some kind of irritation around the other man wrists, like there had been something tied- Oh. Oh. Dave suddenly felt very, very out of place. With his free hand, Mike picked up a piece of toast and bit into it. “Oi, keep standing there, you perv, and you can make your own-” He turned around and was apparently stunned into silence. Mike stared with so much shock, one might suppose he and Dave had never even met before. Then, he made an odd little sound in his throat and coughed, choking on the toast he hadn’t swallowed. Mike doubled forward and Dave automatically hurried over to help him regain his balance and to thump him on the back. “Fuck,” Mike mumbled, trying to catch his breath, and although he was still not completely finished coughing, broke away from Dave quite forcefully by shoving him in the chest. He quickly grabbed one of the aprons neatly hanging on the wall by the pantry. Interestingly, it was the one Noel had bought himself for Christmas the year before last. Fittingly, it bore the legend, ‘Kiss the Chef Here’, with an arrow pointing down. Noel had rationalised his choice by saying it would encourage him to cook for himself and eat more fresh food - which was true, as it happened, but he only did so when there was somebody around to see the apron. Mike stared at Dave again now and thumped his own chest once more - whether to help with what was left of his coughing fit or merely to play for time, it was hard to tell. His eyes had been watering, and Mike swiped the tears away self-consciously. Not that he really needed much more reason to be self consious... The silence was bordering on painful now, and Dave broke it. “What are you doing here?” he asked stupidly, realising how ridiculous this sounded the moment it came out of his mouth. Despite the situation he was in, the love-bites on his hip he was trying to hide and the stubbornly lingering arousal nudging at his apron, Mike snickered. “Isn’t it obvious?” “Exceedingly,” Dave said with a dry grin, nodding towards the prominent bump in the other man's apron. He didn't think he’d ever seen Mike blush so deeply. “What are you doing here?” Mike demanded, his embarassment forcibly replaced with a feeble sort of accusation. Dave raised an eyebrow. “Stealing the DVD player,” he deadpanned. Mike crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “I came to fetch the cheerleading outfits Noel didn’t like; figured I might as well get them back to the shop before I run up a fine.” The younger Fielding brother had been glaring as if he thought Dave was still being sarcastic. The anger in his expression faded though, as he seemed to realise that this wasn't the case. That had been one of the last scenes they’d filmed. Running out of time and budget, Dave had bought them himself from a warehouse. An interesting day that had been, deciding on Vince’s colour preference in little shorts and pom poms. “And there’s a box of old stuff I left behind which I'm going to salvage things from. Material for ‘ze arteest.” Mike gave a little nod of understanding and was quiet. The silence only lasted a moment though, as Dave’s eyes wandered back to a particularly colourful love-bight on the top of his young friend’s foot. “Seriously, what the hell's going on?” he asked. “Who's here with you?” “None of your fucking business,” snapped Mike, but he shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Is it the same mystery girlfriend?” Mike stared at him for a long moment. “Will you just get your stuff and leave?” “Oh, come on,” Dave whined, annoyed and more curious than he’d ever been before. “It is the same mystery girlfriend, isn't it? Is it getting serious?” The younger, smaller, mostly naked man was staring venemously, but Dave ignored it. “How long have you been seeing each other?” Mike continued to glare. “More than six months?” Dave asked, watching Mike's face closely, trying to work out the answers he knew the young Mr. Fielding wouldn't willingly give. “More than a year?” he asked, incredulous. Silence. “Fuck, Mike, this is big! I guess it would have to be; look at you.” He indicated the state of the other man’s body, the love bites, the scratches, the rope burn... “Just let me meet her. I won't tell anyone, I promise.” Mike’s expression didn't change. “No.” “Please?” No reaction. Dave scowled. “Fine. I’ll call Noel then.” Mike blinked. “Wait, what?” “Well, you have been playing kinky games in his house with an unknown and possibly dangerous woman; he might be concerned...” Dave turned, and was unsurprised when he felt Mike’s hand close around his upper arm hastily, pulling him back. “What do you want from me?” he demanded, now sounding a little bit nervous. Dave turned and looked at him, still bewildered. “Why can't I meet her?” He didn't leave a pause before adding, “It’s a him! Is it a him? Is that it?” Mike groaned, covering his eyes and shaking his head. “You sound like Noel,” he complained. “Why the hell did you have to tell him there was somebody? ‘Are they older, Michael? Are they famous? Ooh, are they underage; you little perv, that’s a criminal offence, you know’.” Dave had the good grace to look ashamed. “Sorry,” he said honestly. “I didn't really think it was a big deal. Noel didn't even seem to believe me when nothing came to light to support the theory that you had a girlfriend.” Mike sighed. “It’s okay,” he said, voice softening a bit. “Just... Fine, here’s the thing. I may be in a serious relationship. It may really be going somewhere; that’s never happened to me before, you know? I don't want any of my big brothers, adoptive or otherwise, fucking it all up.” Well. That didn’t make sense. Still, Dave was rather touched that he was classified as an ‘adoptive big brother’. “You little goon; why would we do that?” he asked, ruffling Mike’s hair fondly. “‘Cept Rich, I guess, but he can't help it.” Mike gave him a dark look, but his heart wasn't really in it. “Not on purpose, you dolt. I just want to... Have the opportunity to see if anything really transpires before putting that kind of pressure on him.” He shifted unhappily when he said this, but Dave was pretty sure it wasn't a slip of the tongue; Mike had worded that sentence deliberately. “Fair enough,” he said. This was the time to leave, of course. Right now. He was so curious though, so very curious. “So you... won't tell me anything about him?” he tried in an almost casual tone. Mike scratched his head, but seemed to finally be relaxing a bit. Dave actually got the impression it was a relief as much as anything else, to be sharing these secrets, even if he wasn't giving much away. “If I... If I was to tell you a bit,” Mike said slowly, “What would you want to know?” “Why are you guys here? In Noel’s house, I mean.” Dave wasn't sure why that was the first question in his head, but it was certainly a pressing one. Mike grinned. “Well, we could have stayed out and done it on the street, but you can get arrested for that now days, you know.” “Ha ha,” said Dave, poking out his tongue. “It was the only place close enough,” Mike said more honestly. “We were getting a bit desperate. Well, I was. I wasn’t allowed...” He cut himself off, turning pink. “You weren’t allowed what?” Dave pressed. Silence. Mike shook his head, and received a poke in the rib cage. “I wasn’t supposed to come until I’d been spanked,” he mumbled, cheeks glowing red. He was grinning impishly though. “So I couldn't just... take care of myself fast.” He scratched his head again, utterly unwilling to meet Dave’s eye. “You're... having fun with him though, right?” Dave asked carefully. The idea of Mike enduring hardships was slightly unsettling; it was easy for somebody to take advantage in that kind of sexual situation. Not that Mike was all that weak or naive, of course, but Dave had known him when he was both of these things. He was an ‘adoptive big brother’, after all. Mike rolled his eyes. “Yes, I'm having fun with him,” he said. “I... He cares about me. I care about him. That’s what I meant when... I said it might be serious, you know?” Dave nodded. “Mike,” he said very quietly and very, very seriously, “He’s not... a sugar-daddy, is-” Unsurprisingly, Mike kicked him in the shin. “Enough information for you,” he said. “You can fuck off now.” Withholding a grin as best he could, Dave touched Mike’s shoulder gently. “Does he make you do things, Mikey? Does he like to do bad things to you?” Mike scowled, but it lasted about three seconds. Then, he chuckled. Quiet. Honest. “Yeah. You wanna know about them?” And that really was Dave’s cue to leave.

[fireladybuckley]

Into the Aftermath

Fandom: Star Trek AOS Pairing: Light Bones/Carol, no actual relationship Prompt: No specific prompt - takes place sometime during the last quarter of the Into Darkness movie Word Count: 2675 Warnings: Minor injury, angst Rating: PG Author’s Note: Just felt like her injury and emotional trauma needed some attention.  <3

Carol sank tiredly down onto the bed in the small, sterile room she'd been shown into.  The ship had landed, Kirk had been taken to a special ward in the Starfleet medical centre, with Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock at his bedside.  She had helped take care of the minor injuries of the crew aboard the ship, and directed the more serious injuries into the medical centre.  Finally she'd been lead into a room herself, after one of the nurses had noticed how pale she'd gotten and realized her leg hadn't been completely taken care of.  Dr. McCoy had set her leg and secured it tightly in a very sturdy splint, but the pain medicine he'd given her was starting to wear off and she could feel her calf throbbing.  The pain had started ebbing its way from her ankle up into her knee, creeping higher up her leg the more she moved around, the splint becoming less effective as she had dashed around, helping out.   So she wearily sat here now, waiting for someone to come and tend to her, glad to be off her feet.

She wasn't glad for the quiet and isolation of the room, however.  Despite the physical agony of her leg, the real pain was in her head.  She picked up the small plastic cup of water someone had left on the tray table for her, though instead of drinking, she absently turned it in her hands, staring at it, trying not to think. Her mind was still reeling from what had happened, both about her father being a traitor and a horrible man, and from having to watch him die mere minutes after this terrible revelation.  Despite her absolute disgust as to what he'd done, she hadn't wanted him to die, especially not the horrid way Khan had done it.  She shuddered as she sat there, shaking her head, trying to dislodge the awful image.  It was impossible, however, and she was forced to relive the event in her head several times before she could no longer stand it.

Carol gave a noise of distress and in a fit of frustration, threw the cup across the room.  It bounced off the wall opposite and dropped to the floor, the plastic rim cracking and water splashing everywhere.  Carol turned away as the cup rolled a bit before coming to a stop, already feeling bad about getting water all over, but unable to clean it up with her bad leg.  She let out a shaky breath and pulled herself up onto the bed so she could lie down properly, taking all the pressure off of her leg, which was starting to hurt with more intensity nearly every passing moment.

By the time she heard the door open about ten minutes later, she was lying on her back on the bed, her skin deathly pale and her face somewhat green around the edges.  Her hands were weakly gripping the thin blanket she was lying on top of, as she logically deduced that all the pain medicine was gone from her body.  She was clammy with a cold sweat and her heart was racing, but at least it was distracting her from the thoughts swirling in her mind.  She knew she could handle the knowledge of what had happened later, when she could think about it rationally, but at the moment she was almost glad of the preoccupation.

She looked over at the door as someone came inside the room and was surprised to see that it was Dr. McCoy entering.   She'd been expecting some other doctor or nurse, assuming that he would still be with Jim, monitoring the progress.  Dr. McCoy closed the door behind him and moved towards the bed she was lying on, meeting her eyes and giving her the briefest attempt at a smile before setting his medical kit down on the counter beside him.

"How is Jim?" Carol asked, ignoring the weakness in her voice from the pain and nausea.  He didn't seem to notice her tone, lost in his own thoughts.

"He's about as stable as he's gonna get right now," he answered wearily, running a hand through his already messy hair - a clear sign he'd been doing that same movement repeatedly.  "Khan's blood is replacing his own, which will stop the irradiation effects.  I hope." He sounded strained, worried and above all, tired.

"Dr. McCoy-" she began, but he waved a hand at her somewhat impatiently, shaking his head.

"Leonard.  I told you before, call me Leonard," he corrected her, his voice distracted as he searched his kit for the supplies he needed.

"Right, Leonard." Carol amended, trying not to wince as her leg gave a particularly painful throb.  "Maybe you should go back to monitor him?" she asked gently, watching his face.  "Anyone can deal with my leg, I'd rather you be with him if it would make you feel more confident about his recovery."  She was going to say more but he'd shaken his head.

"There's nothing more I can do now 'cept watch and wait," Bones told her, removing a vial of liquid from his kit and beginning to load it into a hypospray.  "Spock's with him now, and I-" he paused, his hands stilling for a moment as he got lost in a thought.  "I just needed some air."  He finished loading the injection gun and brought it over to the bed, putting it down on the tray table.  

Carol could hear the emotion he was trying to ban from his voice, and could see from his eyes how troubled he was.  She understood.  If it had been one of her best friends lying there dying, she would have been overwhelmed too if all she could do was sit there and hope that his only shot at life would work.  She had the instinctual urge to comfort him, but wasn't sure if he'd welcome it or not, so she abstained.  It was also getting hard to concentrate on anything besides the pain now, and she let out a soft whimper without meaning to, alerting him to her plight.

"How's your leg feeling?" he asked, turning from his supplies, moving over to her side and inspecting the splint.  He saw that it had come undone in a couple of places and sighed, though she didn't notice.

"I've had better days," she said, giving a pained laugh that stopped short a second later as her leg twinged, causing a quickly stifled gasp to escape her.  Bones frowned down at her leg and then glanced up at her seriously, looking concerned but also irritated.

"I told you not to exert yourself," he scolded her, tugging on one of the straps of the splint, trying to re-adjust it.  She cried out as a shock of pain went through her leg, but realized that after the jolt, it felt secure again.  He must have fixed the splint.  She let out a trembling sigh and leaned back against the pillow, feeling shaky and nauseated.   "Sorry for that.  But this splint isn't made for normal, walking-around use," he told her, feeling bad for causing her a bit more pain but frustrated that she hadn't done what he'd asked.  "You didn't rest at all, did you?  Why don't people ever listen to me?" His voice was resigned, and she had a feeling that Bones was thinking a lot more of other people (likely Jim) than herself, but she still thought the comment a little unfair.   She likely would have brushed it aside had she been well and feeling like herself, but she didn't feel normal right now and felt the need to address it.

"I was helping," she told him, unabashed, meeting his eyes unblinkingly, though she was still shaking a bit.  "There were a lot of people hurt.  I may not be a medical doctor but I do know my way around my fair share of injuries," she informed him.  "I wasn't going to let some pain stop me."

Bones' expression softened a little at this and he flashed her a tight smile, patting the knee of her good leg.

"Thanks for that help, then," he said gruffly.  "The nurses must have been overwhelmed."  His tone was a guilty one, and she guessed he felt bad for running off with Spock to care for Jim and leaving everyone else behind.  Again, she didn't blame him, would likely have done the same herself, but she wasn't sure how to reassure him.

"We managed alright," she said simply, hoping it would placate him.  He nodded, and she tensed a little as he reached out and pulled the skirt of her blue Starfleet uniform dress up a few inches from her knees.

"I'm gonna numb your leg before I take the splint off, okay?" He said briefly, gesturing to her knee area with the hypo that was now back in his hand.   She flinched with a gasp as she heard the loud click and then hissing sound of the trigger being pulled and the medicine being injected and felt a sharp stabbing sensation just below her knee.   Within seconds, however, she could feel the numbness spreading down her lower leg, making the pain ebb away.

Carol let out a long sigh of relief and relaxed back against the pillows, letting her body rest for the first time since she'd gotten on the bed, not realizing she'd been holding herself so rigidly the whole time.

"Thank you, that's much better," she told him, the relief clearly evident in her voice.  He nodded again and began to remove the splint, his hands working quickly and skillfully, and she suspected he could do this in his sleep.  He'd removed it in thirty seconds or so and set it aside, carefully easing her broken leg down onto the bed.  She watched him passively as he examined it, checking to make sure it was still set properly.  He was poking and prodding a little in different areas, but the numbing agent was powerful; she thankfully felt nothing.  She felt grateful that she lived in a time when such a thing was possible; if she'd felt much more pain she suspected she would have thrown up or passed out.  Perhaps both.

She zoned out a bit as he did his work, barely noticing as he wrapped her leg in a high-tech mesh that was super strong but very light, barely a centimeter or two thick once he'd layered it properly around for the stability she needed.  

"How are you doing?" he asked her, finishing off the wrap at the bottom and inspecting his work, glancing over at her as he did so.  She came out of her daze and looked at him, then looked down at what he'd done, seemingly noticing the dark green  mesh cast for the first time.

"Oh, I still can't feel anything," she told him,  giving him a weak half smile, her eyes drooping a little.  After all the adrenaline, emotion and pain of the day, now that her leg felt about as much pain as a wooden log, she was feeling unbelievably exhausted.    She looked up again in time to see Bones shake his head and look at her, stepping away from her leg and closer to her upper body, finished with his task.

"No, I meant-" he hesitated, clearly wondering if he should continue, but then he went for it. "I meant about your dad.  The admiral.  I mean, what you saw Khan do..." he trailed off, seeing a look of anguish flash in her eyes and immediately felt bad for saying anything.

The images flooded her brain once more at Bones' words and overwhelmed her for a moment.   She once again relived the anger and disgust she felt at her father's betrayal, and then despite her bad feelings, the absolute horror at watching Khan kill him moments later.  She shook herself and swallowed thickly, trying and failing to smile at him.

"I'm, uh--" she tried to say that she was okay, but she couldn't get the words out, her voice catching a bit.  She didn't want to tell him what she was feeling, either.  She needed to work through her thoughts before she could talk about them, and the memory of the events were too recent and raw for her to process yet.  

Bones seemed to understand and put a warm, steady hand on her arm.  She looked down at it for a brief moment and then up at him, seeing a serious, but earnest expression on his face.

"You can talk to me  if you want, when you're ready." he told her.  "I may not seem like the sentimental type, but I'm a pretty good listener."  His voice was softer than usual, though he still looked a little grumpy, in contrast with the honest clarity in his eyes.  It was a rather endearing combination, and Carol found herself giving him a small but genuine smile.

"Thank you, Leonard," she said quietly, briefly allowing her fingers to brush the back of his hand where it lay on her arm in an attempt to show him she really meant it.  Carol really appreciated the gesture, especially since she didn't really have anyone to talk to, not having had a chance to get to know anyone on the crew yet, besides what little time she'd had with either himself or Jim Kirk.  He nodded, the corner of one side of his lips crooking just slightly, before turning back to the med kit and setting up an IV drip on the pole next to her bed.

"I'm going to put you on a drip overnight.   Saline with some morphine on reserve, in case you're in pain when you wake up." he told Carol, connecting the bag of clear liquid to the IV machine attached to the pole.  He moved towards the bed and after making sure she was ready, inserting the catheter and attached it to the IV line.   She nodded, so tired now she'd barely felt the sting from the insertion, her head lolling against the pillow.

Bones covered her with a couple of extra blankets from the cabinet across the room, not wanting to make her move to get under the covers she was lying on top of.  By the time he'd tucked the blanket carefully around her legs  and up to her shoulders, her eyes were closed.  He smoothed the blanket over her arm and looked down at her for a moment, just watching her relaxed expression.  He didn't think she was asleep yet but she was so close that she'd gone completely limp, one hand across her stomach, her slim fingers curling loosely down her side.

He turned and closed up his medical kit, and was just walking to the door when he heard her shift.  Bones paused and turned to look at her, watched her open her eyes and focus on him a little sluggishly.

"Tell Jim to hurry up and get better," she said sleepily, her eyes already drooping.  "So you can stop worrying..." her voice trailed off at the end, and even as he watched, her face went slack and she began to breathe slowly and evenly, finally resting.

Bones winced as his head throbbed, all his worries and concerns about Jim rushing back to him, flooding his brain so hard it began to hurt.  He put a hand to his forehead, grimacing.  He was confused for a moment as to why they'd even had to come back, he'd been so focused on them before it seemed like they'd never be gone.  But then he realized that while he'd been in there with Carol, his thoughts had mostly cleared without him even realizing it.

Trying to work out this strange development in his brain, he shook his head and left the room, closing the door silently behind himself.  He was going to go sit with Spock and watch Jim's progress  for a while and then get some rest himself before he actually passed out from exhaustion.

[malinka-nostalgia]

August 29, 2018

These are some powerful words I read from Wasted by Marya Hornbacher. And I relate completely. Not to the eating disorder part. But to everything else. Mostly my past dating life and where I’m at right now. 

I’ve never been in a normal relationship before. Therefore I did not have a good baseline or foundation. I’ve never had a good example either. What I have had plenty of however is plenty of low self esteem. Insecurity. I’ve had so many crushes in middle school and high school. But being a dorky girl whose first language was not English, it was hard to approach anyone. 

When I did finally get into relationships there was always something wrong with them. Junior year in high school, I fell head over heels for a goth guy who had a girlfriend. He flirted with me nonetheless. Never made a move though. Then his gf cheated on him. And we kind of became friends with benefits. Nothing official. He was always amazed at how I was 17 and still a virgin. Obviously it didn’t go anywhere. I was a lot more religious than I am now. I wasn’t gonna have sex with him. And I just let him use me for everything else. Making out and transportation. This went on for maybe 2-3 months so it’s somewhat significant. Finally he broke it off with me. At the mall. Then I found out he was making out with some other girl. Like 20 mins after breaking things off with me. Pretty sure he was two timing me for a while. 

First year in college. Got a real boyfriend. Real deal. I was in love with him. Stupid teenage love. Met at a high school bible camp. I was a part of the worship team and he was there with his mom’s high school church group. It was long distance but it’s like we were mad about each other. He introduced me to foreplay. I’ve never gotten this physical with anyone before. This made me even more attached to him. I saw a couple of early red flags however. He would kinda snap at me over text. I later found out he’s depressed. I tried to be there for him because I was so attached to him. Didn’t wanna lose him. He was having a spiritual crisis. I’m not allowed to date non-SDAs, but I loved him and didn’t wanna leave him. 6 months into our dating, his parents sell their house and they move to NC. Even more long distance than we started. He’s even more depressed. Pays less attention to me. Likes other girls pictures on myspace/facebook but ignores mine. I feel unimportant. I cry. I confront him. He makes me feel stupid for getting mad about this. I get depressed. Relationship is a mess. Finally ends when he moves in with some girl. He breaks up with me so he could “take care of her” because her life’s a mess. I’m depressed, I start using drugs to deal with it. I try to move on by hooking up with other guys. Just foreplay, never all the way. Was trying to save that for marriage.

I’m 22. I meet a guy in a ceramics lab. Gorgeous guy. Choppy hair. Awesome tats. Nostril piercing. And an amazing artist. We hit it off, talking about some art and music. Go outside to smoke a cigarette. He gives me his business card, says we should paint together sometime. A few days later I hit him up. Go to his house and we paint together on the same canvas. Next time we hangout again. I’m thinking this is just gonna be another one of those hookups I’ve been having. We get into some foreplay. He gets a little controlling with what he likes. Later on he texts me saying something like, if we’re gonna continue to do this (hook up) I need to shave my vagina, straighten my hair, wear makeup, etc. Instead of saying goodbye to his shallow ass, I agree. We hangout some more. He pressures me into sex. I try to say no. He rubs his dick on me and I get paranoid from getting pregnant from pre-cum. So I say ok whatever, put on a condom and lets just do this. He does that. I finally lose my virginity. Doesn’t work for him though. He hates condoms. He has to do it with it off. He gets pissed cause he can’t stay hard and gets angry at me for not trusting him to pull out. I don’t have insurance. I pay $250 to see a gyno and get a scrips for birth control. He has it his way. I get stuck in a ~2-3 year relationship with a controlling guy who abused me emotionally and used me as much as he could. I could write another whole long post about how much he tortured me. And yet I couldn’t leave him because break ups are hard and I’m weak. In fact, I’d rather almost kill myself from heroin to deal with his abuse than break up with him. Finally I break up with him. Over text. I know, it’s not the right way to do it. But he is so manipulative. I’ve broken up with him before and he pretty much talked me back into it.

A few months after that was over. I found a guy on facebook by accident. We started talking. I thought he was so amazing. A complete opposite of the last guy. We had so much in common. He was so respectful. It felt so good to talk to a guy who likes me who does not put me down and does not put his needs before mine. Someone who cared about things I like. Liked the songs I liked. Also long distance. But when we finally met things moved too fast. I think it was the third date, we had sex. I was absolutely drunk. Because I need to drink to socialize with people I don’t know very well because of my old friend social anxiety. It didn’t feel right though. The next morning I felt like shit. We still hung out. Later that day I got drunk again. Almost blackout drunk. And we had sex again. He wasn’t drunk. The next day I felt so dirty. I know he wasn’t meaning any harm but it felt like I was taken advantage of. I told him we need to slow things down and take a step back. To be just friends and build it up from there. He didn’t like that and went a little nuts. Whatever. He lives far away and doesn’t even have his own car.

I’m 26. In nursing school. Very shy. There’s a guy in my clinical group. Very good looking. Clearly takes care of himself. Ladies man. Works out. Great hygiene, great sense of style. Kind of a neat freak, likes to me in control of his life. Excellent social skills. Very funny. I get a lil crush on him. We have a group chat on WhatsApp, among my clinical group. I get his number. Add him on snapchat. He starts talking to me. We get close. I invite him to my bday party. We get drunk. I lead him to my friend’s guest room and we end up making out and so on. Not going all the way. Yet. It was hella fun. For both of us. However, when I brought up to him the next day that I like him, he said he’s not looking for a relationship because he’s too busy with school, work, and gym. Ok, whatever. Made me a little sad but ok. We still hung out a lot, were hooking up, eventually all the way. We spent a lot of time together. We texted every single day. Everything we were doing, it was like we were a couple. But without a label. I liked him a lot. He was more than just those hookups I’ve had in the past. I felt like we were actually friend too. I thought there was a strong bond. That is, till he went behind my back all summer and started hooking up with one of my closest friends. Later I found out he hooked up with a couple girls in the nursing program too. While he was hooking up with me. I felt so betrayed and so stupid. I knew we weren’t official but I thought, as a friend, he wouldn’t do that to me. 

Every relationship I listen was fucked up. Every relationship tore a little piece of my soul. Every time I did drugs to deal with it made me more and more desensitized. I’ve become more and more like a zombie.

Now, relating to those quotes I posted from Wasted.

I’m 27 years old. I meet a guy from a dating app. Amazing guy. Funny. Cute. Has a real badass job - a firefighter. We have a lot in common. Go on a few dates. Then it becomes official. Feels kinda weird. I haven’t had an official boyfriend since my first boyfriend in college. That’s 8 years ago. Anyway. Tried hooking up with him. This guy’s almost like a virgin. Only had sex with one girl. Makes me look kinda bad, compared to my 6 sex partners. So obviously, this guy’s inexperienced kinda. Never even foreplayed before. I had to teach him things. Got some of it down. Tried having sex once. Didn’t workout. Not even sure he put the condom on correctly. After attempting for like 5 mins but which felt like 30, we decided this is not the night. I’m not used to this. I’ve never been the “experienced” one in the hookup. Feels like I’m hooking up with someone much younger than me even though he’s older. Not his fault. He tried to wait till marriage too, cept he lost his v-card like a year or two ago. This guy’s pretty much pure. Literally, nothing he’s doing is wrong. And there’s room for learning. So I try to move past it. It’s no big deal. Other than that, he’s got a golden personality. Such a gentleman. Takes me out, tried pulling a chair out for me, pays for me, just all those little gestures, being respectful. Very sweet. He even got interested in my religion and started going to church with me. Which no guy I’ve dated would EVER do. But it’s normal. And I’m not normal. I’m not used to this. This is foreign to me. He likes me too much. I’m his wallpaper on his phone. It freaks me out. I’m too nice to say anything about it. I don’t wanna hurt his feelings. He’s already done so much for me. He went as far as meeting my scary family. Oh and my family likes him. Which is also a new concept to me. I didn’t dare introduce anyone to my family since my first college boyfriend. I’ve been going behind their backs to meet up with guy because I knew they wouldn’t approve. This guy treats me right. He’s not a douche. But I tend to find little pet peeves in certain things he does to push myself away from him. Which is ridiculous considering I let a guy treat me like shit for 2 years. Twice. Now my mom is getting all excited about me dating someone. Starts bringing up marriage. I fucking can’t. I already feel so uncomfortable. This normal behavior does not feel normal to me. It all happened too fast. I feel like we missed a “friend” stage. This is exactly why I hate dating apps. You already know you’re interested in each other. You skip the friend stage. You skip wondering “I wonder if he likes me” or trying to impress someone. You swiped right or whatever, you started talking, you went on dates, and you’re like “ok I could date this person, I like them”. It just does not seem genuine. Did he know I’d be such a spazz with anxiety when we became official? No he did not. Maybe if we remained just friend for longer he would know. He wants to me a dad one day. Idk if I could be a mom. I feel like I have at least 3 mental illnesses going on right now. Depression, anxiety, maybe a little mix of PTSD and OCD. I’m insane. I don’t want to put anyone through what my first college boyfriend put me through. I don’t wish all that permanent brain damage upon anyone.

I don’t know what’s gonna happen now. I just hung out with him. We watched a movie. And he wanted to get cuddley or whatever. I couldn’t do it. Any time he touched me today my muscles would get tense. I got so anxious. He asked me what’s wrong. I said I don’t feel touchy. He asked why. I said I’m depressed. Then it just got worse. My mouth got dry. Sympathetic system going crazy. I had to leave. I needed to calm down. I went by the gas station and bought a pack of cigarettes probably for the first time in a year. I went to Danny’s house and hung out with him and Mike. I didn’t wanna go home until I calmed down. I needed to be around someone who did not expect any loving gesture from me. I needed to be around someone I could be my own stupid self and not hurt anyone’s feelings. 

I don’t want to be in a relationship. I don’t want anyone’s feelings depending on me. I can really hurt people. Not because I want to. But because they get so invested in me and start to care about me and then when they see me suffer it hurts them. After all those shitty relationships I’ve learned to take care of myself and be emotionally independent. And I’m so so scared that I’m always gonna be like that. I’m gonna end up alone because I’m too scared to let anyone else in. I’m sick in the head. And sadly, so so sadly, it’s become normal for me.